


better bite that tongue

by Hymn



Series: Hymn's Fic: Katekyo Hitman Reborn Collection [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Arguing during sex, Blow Job, M/M, Post-Series, Rough Sex, Tsuna POV, confessions??, dub con because DRUNK FOOLS, getting together fic, handjob, i give up on everything, kyouya being...difficult, kyouya in a yukata should be illegal, lemme know if i need to tag something lol, no-penetration, pure filth, tsuna's got a big dick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 05:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17616206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hymn/pseuds/Hymn
Summary: He wondered how long he could get away with this, kissing Hibari. It might have been going too far, too intimate; but Hibari just held steady beneath him, barely breathing, and then he gave a low noise and the surprised tension in his spine seemed to melt all at once. He returned the kiss.And it wasgood. Hibari kissed differently than Tsuna had expected -- not violent and angry, but thorough, curious.





	better bite that tongue

**Author's Note:**

> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

They had too much saké. 

Tsuna didn’t really drink, in general, and neither did Hibari, but that didn’t stop the Cloud Guardian from having strong and expensive tastes, so when one bottle turned into two Tsuna had already had too much. Three, and even Hibari was pushing it, going loose-limbed and relaxed in a way Tsuna rarely saw him. “Your yukata is crooked,” Tsuna finally couldn’t help but point out from his position sprawled on the floor, saké cup balancing absurdly on his chest. It swayed back and forth with every inhale he took.

“Stop talking,” Hibari murmured back. His eyes were closed and he was leaning back on one strong arm, the other holding his cup a little precariously. “You’ll ruin it.”

Tsuna wondered what he was going to ruin aside from the quiet, which Hibari had said was an absolute if Tsuna was going to be allowed to stay near him. He’d done all right with that stipulation so far, only breaking his silence with an occasional muttered thanks whenever Hibari gave him a refill. Tsuna knew what _it_ was for him: a still point in the chaos of his life next to a comrade he -- he _cherished_. 

He didn’t know what _it_ meant for Hibari, though. Not really.

Curious, Tsuna rearranged himself just enough to have a better angle to watch him. With his head tipped back like that Hibari was just -- beautiful. Long, pale neck, sharp clavicles; his dark yukata baring his calves and gaping open a little too much at the chest. A fold had caught under his hip when Hibari shifted earlier, collar gone crooked like Tsuna had pointed out and somehow making Hibari even more mysterious, even more enticing, with that one slight imperfection to ruin him.

It made him look human; touchable, maybe. Tsuna breathed through his mouth once, hard, before tearing his gaze away, blinking blearily up at the ceiling. 

Tsuna was only here on sufferance and he needed -- he needed to _remember_ that. 

Surely, Hibari would have been glad enough to be rid of him if he deemed Tsuna too irritating. But Hibari had warned him not to _ruin it_ , and while that probably only meant that Hibari didn’t want to be bothered chasing him out at this time of night, when he was looking warm and comfortable, very nearly -- what? Happy didn’t suit, Tsuna thought. Hibari was happy when he was fighting, blood from his enemies painting him with color; this wasn’t happiness, though it was similar. 

_Contentment_ , maybe. 

Well, whatever it was, Tsuna didn’t want to ruin it, but he also wondered -- couldn’t _help_ but to wonder -- if maybe, just maybe, his presence had anything at all to do with it existing in the first place, and maybe that was why Hibari didn’t want him to _ruin it_ : because without Tsuna, it wouldn’t be good enough. 

Drunk, it was even harder not to consider it. All those hopeful, half-desperate thoughts clamoring to the forefront of his brain, pointing out the way Hibari had looked _pleased_ \-- or was it anticipatory? -- when Tsuna had joined him earlier.

The niggling, determined little sprout of hope that had been growing over the last several months, bigger and bigger with each passing interaction, each obvious indulgence Hibari gave him, bloomed even more.

It made Tsuna feel like trying something wild. _Desperate_. Probably something really, inexcusably dumb.

Mercifully, the sound of a screen sliding open drew Tsuna’s attention. 

He shouldn’t be thinking or looking at Hibari in this way, not now, not here, not like this; he felt too hot already from the saké, too warm in the enclosed space no matter how well ventilated it was. Not for the first time he wondered how Hibari didn’t hate this place, tucked and secreted away underground when he had always been up on the roof, lounging in the breeze.

“Kyo-san,” said Kusakabe, tone stern but respectful. Tsuna rested his cheek on the floor, gazing at him with a slight smile and a little awkward wave of his fingers, careful not to speak again. He didn’t want to test Hibari’s patience with a second transgression.

“Hm,” was all Hibari said, but even that sounded annoyed.

Kusakabe hesitated, then ventured fully inside the room, though no further than two steps in, staring at Tsuna with an opaque expression from his dark, bright eyes. Then he said, “It’s gotten late, Kyo-san. I just wanted to be certain you were… all right.”

“...Hm.”

Astonishingly, Tsuna managed to hold back a spurt of laughter at the look on Kusakabe’s face. His body shook a little and the saké cup still on his chest with it, but he managed not to make more than a slight huffing breath. Still, Hibari extended one leg just far enough to toe him pointedly in the side; Tsuna subsided instantly, entirely still, especially when he didn’t hear the subtle slide of bare skin against tatami mats that would have indicated Hibari’s foot retreating.

Kusakabe said, “...Kyo-san, perhaps you’ve had enough to drink?”

“Perhaps,” Hibari said, voice low and rough, a little unwieldy at the edges, “you should bring us another bottle of saké.”

 _Us_.

Tsuna tried not to thrill at that, but it was hard; every hint of camaraderie was one he couldn’t help but cling to secretly, his insides squirming with delight every time Hibari proved in some way that he did not _entirely_ mind being affiliated with him. 

But he couldn’t assume -- _shouldn’t_ assume, no matter how many times Tsuna was startled by how much it seemed like Hibari might want him back the same way that Tsuna wanted him. Especially not now when Tsuna was drunk and couldn’t trust his judgement. It was enough and more than enough, Tsuna thought, to have simply his friendship. 

He could take that and be happy. He _could_. 

But then he turned his head back towards Hibari and saw that pale, bare ankle so close to his hand that it would hardly be any effort to grasp it, to circle that surprisingly delicate part of Hibari with his fingers and thumb and hold on.

Maybe Kusakabe was right. 

No, almost certainly Kusakabe was right and they had _both_ been drinking more than enough, because it was taking far too much force of will for Tsuna to keep his hands to himself, to do nothing more than glare at that delicate, protruding knob beneath thin, fragile skin, a strange sort of intimate vulnerability. 

He wondered if it would at all be sensitive to the touch…

“Kyo-san,” Kusakabe murmured, hesitant. “Are you sure --”

“What is this?” Hibari asked, voice surprisingly loud. Tsuna’s gaze flicked up to him, finally drawn away from the temptation of his ankle, to see those sharp eyes gone wide and that mouth pulled down low at the corners. Expressive; Tsuna always forgot how _expressive_ Hibari could be when he wanted.

Hibari said, “I am not some feeble creature who needs your protection. You’re dismissed, go home. I’ll get the bottle myself.”

“Hibari-san,” Tsuna started without thought; the wild and vicious glance sent his way was enough to make him bite his tongue. He winced and looked back to the ceiling, feeling suddenly awkward -- discord between Kusakabe and Hibari wasn’t unheard of, but never seen. 

Heavily, Kusakabe said, “Very well, Kyo-san,” and left, the screen sliding shut behind him.

Tsuna listened to his feet walk away, very steady and evenly paced, and then he glanced back at Hibari out the corner of his eye. Hibari glared down at his saké cup, looking thoughtful. He murmured, “He forgets that I do not -- do not abide by any whim but my own. That I --”

“Hibari-san,” Tsuna tried again, more gently. “Maybe he’s right. You drank most of the last bottle on your own, and -- and uh --”

Hibari pointed at him with the cup, Cloud Bracelet a spiked corona behind it. “Shut up,” he said, and then he pushed himself to standing, wavering only slightly. Tsuna might have protested again but he was arrested by the sight of those long, pale legs so near, lightly dusted with fine, dark hairs, the mussed yukata revealing far too much inner thigh; and to top it off it had even begun slipping over Hibari’s left shoulder, evocative, messy, entirely too much to withstand.

Barely breathing, Tsuna reached out and curled his fingers around Hibari’s ankle.

“You -- _What_ are you doing, Sawada Tsunayoshi?” 

Tsuna blinked up at Hibari’s face; it seemed a long way away and it was turned toward him, frowning. “Oops. I -- I thought I’d sobered up more than this. Sorry?” 

Hibari looked faintly alarmed; mouth pulling tight, body going tense. Violence sparked in his eyes, a flash of heat like a threat. “That is beside the point. _What are you_ \--”

“You didn’t even make me change,” Tsuna pointed out, fingers still in a loose hold about Hibari’s ankle. The thin skin beneath his palm and the tips of his fingers was cool, but magnetic. He felt dizzy and didn’t know if it was from drink or daring. “I’m still -- my suit, I’m wearing it.” That meant something to Tsuna, but Hibari was just looking at him like he was speaking a different language entirely. “You like it when -- when other people dress like you, here. Part of your, what? Discipline? Aesthetic? Aren’t I messing it up? Don’t I mess everything up?”

Hibari’s lip twitched into the beginnings of a petulant sneer. “Mess everything up? Don’t be disgusting. You’re not that weak, Vongola Tenth. If you were, I wouldn’t --”

His teeth clicked shut on whatever words were meant to follow, expression going faintly murderous before he looked away. When half a minute passed and still nothing followed, the statement left unfinished, Tsuna traced his thumb in an arch over the top of Hibari’s bare foot. “You wouldn’t _what_ , Hibari-san?”

“I would kill you,” he said flatly. “If you were that weak. I might -- might kill you still if you keep on like that. _Disgusting_ ,” he muttered, and then almost awkwardly kicked Tsuna off. 

Tsuna let go, making a show of putting his hands up by his head, backs of his knuckles dragging against the floor; a sign of surrender. He grinned a little, though, thinking in astonishment: _you didn’t actually answer me, Hibari Kyouya_.

And Tsuna had spoken. 

Tsuna had broken the quiet, the one rule that Hibari had made clear, and _still_ he had not chased Tsuna out. More than that, Tsuna had laid his hands on Hibari and he hadn’t --

He had been --

Fuck, but Hibari had _let_ him, was the thing. Without retaliation and without revulsion, he had let Tsuna _touch him_. 

Laid out on the floor Tsuna closed his eyes, felt the world spin a little miserably around him, and tried to breathe evenly. “I should go,” he whispered when Hibari came back with another bottle, his saké cup already full in his hand. 

“No.”

“Hibari-san,” Tsuna groaned, “this is -- a bad idea. I should _go_.”

Hibari settled on the ground near him. _Very_ near, much closer than he had before. Deliberate, he slid his fingers under the wide bowl of the saké cup on Tsuna’s chest; a firm touch, just a little warm through Tsuna’s shirt and lingering for a moment, too, before he picked it up. “No,” Hibari said again, pouring him another drink. 

When he held it out to Tsuna, Tsuna bit his lip, thinking -- _this is so dumb; this is stupid; I’m gonna do something to fuck this up past repair, I just know it!_ \-- but the fear was hazy with drink and the late hour and the long day, and Tsuna --

Tsuna took the cup, fingertips brushing gently against Hibari’s.

* * *

It got a little easier, at least. Tsuna was used to denying himself and his attraction, used to pining from afar and just _wishing_. He could pack away the thrill and unease and the hunger that single touch had ignited in him and push it down and just -- exist. Which was good, because now that Tsuna had spoken and gotten away with it he kept on speaking, and better than anything else in the world, Hibari was -- was _joining in_.

“That -- _that_ \-- was a decent fight,” Hibari recounted, waving his hand and the partially full cup in his hand through the air. Tsuna snickered, pushing himself up onto his elbows so he could give Hibari a sly look. In response, Hibari tipped his chin up, eyes glittering beneath heavy lids. “What?” he asked.

“You,” said Tsuna, delighted. “You’re ridiculous.”

Hibari stared, dumbfounded. “I am _not_ ,” he protested. “All the rest of you are ridiculous. A bunch of herbivores pretending you have teeth sharp enough to -- to matter. To --”

“I’m glad you had fun,” Tsuna said, sighing happily. “I saw that guy, and I thought: Hibari Kyouya, he’d have fun fighting this guy. It would tickle him. It would --”

“Tickle.”

Tsuna rolled his eyes and pushed up onto his knees. “Don’t get -- get _literal_ with me, Hibari-san. You know what I mean.”

“Hm, do I?” Hibari hummed, reaching unsteadily for the saké bottle. 

Again, the fourth bottle had been consumed mostly by the Cloud Guardian, Tsuna sipping at his own in an effort not to get so wasted he passed out in Hibari’s rooms, or worse, destroyed whatever relationship had been strengthening between them by _acting_. The late hour dragged at him, too, made him giddy and too daring, and the fact that they’d spent the better part of the last half hour just -- just _chatting_ had Tsuna loose and warm and unafraid.

Maybe he should have been; Hibari was not someone to ever dismiss, after all. But it wasn’t dismissal, so much as a shift -- a readjusting based on Hibari’s own reactions or lack thereof. 

Tsuna’s tie had been loosened and discarded, piled messily atop his neatly folded jacket from earlier. His belt, too, because the buckle had kept digging into his gut and he’d had enough saké that he was starting to need to pee kind of badly, but he didn’t want to risk going to the bathroom in case it somehow ended this magic spell, the one that had Hibari smirking at him, still looking offensively _content_.

The spell that might allow him to touch Hibari _again_.

Startled, he blinked away from that dangerous thought -- the yawning, greedy reach of his desire -- and tried to get back into the flow of the casual conversation. He said, “I knew it would make you happy, is all. Hey, maybe you, uh --” 

Tsuna hesitated, watching as Hibari spilled some of the saké, blinking at the pool of clear liquid on the floor in surprise. Then he said -- reluctant, because Tsuna was drunk and needy and didn’t ever want this night to end, but he also couldn’t stand to be that selfish when Hibari might hate him in the morning for seeing him so sloppy -- “I really should go. You’re -- you’re really drunk. I’m pretty drunk. It’s late, and there’s, uh, stuff to do tomorrow. Mafia stuff.”

Then, in a mournful murmur, “I kind of hate the mafia stuff.”

“I don’t _get you_ ,” Hibari complained, setting the bottle down with a clank. “How do you -- You’re such a _pack animal_. All you do is for -- for other people. And I hate it, it’s -- it makes me want to bite you. It _pisses me off_ , Sawada Tsunayoshi, that you can be -- be this --”

Tsuna gaped. “Whoa, hey! I -- Jeez, Hibari-san, really --”

“Just call me Kyouya already!” Hibari snapped, flushed and furious, expression dark. He looked a second away from lunging, and Tsuna held still, heart hammering, as Hibari continued. “You’re so -- polite. Inoffensive, really, like you’re some little animal, helpless, but you’re _not_ , you -- I want to fight you,” Hibari grit out, like he hated admitting this. “ _All the time_.”

“What, like, now?” Tsuna yelped. “You want to fight me _now_ , too? Because you -- you haven’t been acting like you --”

“Yes,” snapped Hibari. Then his expression flickered and he glared down at the cup of saké, touching a finger to its rim. “...No.”

Tsuna’s hands were shaking. This felt like a pivotal moment, a single hair’s breadth of a chance to turn a fight around; that moment where he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he would do anything, absolutely anything, to win, because the stakes weren’t anything he was willing to lose. 

But he wasn’t lit up with his Dying Will. He was just drunk and overwhelmed, instead.

Tsuna said, a little choked, “Hibari-san, I. I want --”

Lifting the cup to his lips, Hibari glared at Tsuna over the rim, and Tsuna said, helplessly, “I thought you _preferred_ politeness. Respect.” Then he watched, entranced, as Hibari’s lashes fluttered closed, face twisting a little with a grimace. 

He said, voice low, “Consider it a reward.”

Tsuna could hardly breathe; his throat felt too tight to draw breath. He stuttered out, “A reward? Like --?”

“You’ve earned it,” Hibari murmured, sipping slowly until the cup was dry. “Maybe. I don’t really know. I don’t _like_ not knowing, Tsunayoshi. You -- confuse me.”

“...Heh. Like you’re one to talk.”

The look Hibari sent him at that was a warning and an indulgence all at once, and that -- that was just -- too much. Entirely too much for Tsuna to withstand any longer.

It didn’t take hyper intuition for Tsuna to know that Hibari held him in a different regard from most others -- but he _had_ been trying not to think too long on what _kind_ of regard Hibari might hold him in. Especially here, tonight, close enough to _touch_. Because he wanted it too much, Tsuna knew; he wanted, desperately, and it both terrified and thrilled him and he had thought for so long that nothing would ever come of long years of fearful pining, but --

“Okay,” Tsuna said, and reached for the bottle.

There was maybe enough saké left for three cups, so Tsuna poured them one by one, swallowing each down with an effort and a sickly lurch of his stomach. He came out of the last one with the world spinning around him and heat flashing through him, gasping, “ _Kyouya_. Come here.”

Slowly, a smirking kind of grin spread across Hibari’s face. “Make me,” he challenged.

And it was like and unlike any of the furtive fantasies Tsuna had imagined. There was no possible way to envision Hibari Kyouya as anything less than himself, which meant that Tsuna had been jerking off to rough sex and violence and intimidating glares for years; it might have given him an edge, actually.

“Fine,” Tsuna said, tone even and easy.

Then he was on him, trying to get Hibari down on the ground under him, not because he wanted to beat him or humiliate him, but because he knew -- he _guessed_ \-- that Hibari would like it; that Hibari would look up at him with wide and shining eyes and grip Tsuna’s hips between his knees and flip them, easy as anything.

“Too slow,” Hibari said, torn somewhere between delight and disappointment. “You’ll have to do better than -- ah.”

“This damned _yukata_ ,” Tsuna grumbled, his fingers spread wide over Hibari’s thighs beneath the falling folds, palms flat, trying to touch as much skin as he could. “It’s been -- been driving me crazy. All night. You look --” Hibari looked wild, a feral animal startled and still, because Tsuna’s grip was firm enough to bruise already, no holding back, and he swept his thumbs up the tops of Hibari’s thighs and said a touch wildly himself, “Do you wear a fundoshi under this?”

“You --” Hibari spluttered, rearing upright.

Tsuna followed him, pressing the advantage while he had it. He didn’t think Hibari was a virgin, but he also had a hard time imagining Hibari had ever had sex like _this_ \-- not quite a fight, not quite not-a-fight. He seemed confused as to whether he should attack savagely or not; Tsuna took it, took all the give Hibari was accidentally giving, fighting as dirty as he knew how. 

“ _Shit_.” Hibari’s head was knocked back against the ground, Tsuna wedged between his thighs. “I’m gonna _kill you_ , Sawada, you --” His breath left him in a whistling whine. Tsuna had a wrist in one hand tight enough to grind the bones together, pressed against the floor; the other was between Hibari’s legs, awkward in the tight fit of their bodies but determined, palming at the half-hardness of Hibari’s cock through his underwear. 

“So you _do_ wear a fundoshi,” Tsuna groaned. “God, I’ve wondered.”

Hibari stared up at him, face red and a little sweaty, hair a mess -- the yukata was barely on him anymore and his chest rose and fell noticeably. Tsuna felt him stiffen up beneath his palm, hips hitching just slightly like he couldn’t help it. Hibari Kyouya, _needy_. Tsuna felt more drunk with that than any amount of saké could have made him.

“It’s comfortable,” Hibari offered, before he had a knee in Tsuna’s side hard enough to send him skidding across the floor a good five feet. Tsuna pushed up on his palms, glancing through his bangs to see Hibari rise gracefully from the floor, straightening his clothing. 

There was a noticeable bulge, though; Hibari _wanted_ him.

Tsuna said, “Is this the kind of fighting you meant?” in a smooth-voiced taunt. “When you said you want me all the time? Is this why you were confused?”

Hibari just glared, and then he actually admitted, “I _guess_ ,” in the most ungrateful, graceless way possible, and there was nothing for it but for Tsuna to scramble back up in time to catch Hibari’s body against his own, grasping at one lightning-fast fist and allowing the other to connect with his side so that he could hook an ankle behind Hibari’s and pin him again, on all fours this time.

“You’re letting me win,” he breathed against Hibari’s shoulder, bared once more. “You --”

“Shut up,” Hibari said, voice harsh. He was stiff beneath Tsuna, tensed up all over and nearly quivering with it. His nape looked so strange and delicate beneath the soft flutter of his dark hair, and Tsuna used his hold on Hibari’s hand to jerk his arm back further, pulling Hibari up enough that Tsuna could fasten his mouth on that vulnerable expanse of skin and _bite_.

The noise Hibari made was wild and feral, a gutteral kind of almost-surrender. Tsuna couldn’t help it; he ground his own erection against Hibari’s backside, muffling a moan against skin as he pressed his teeth harder, forcing himself not to pull off, not to gentle himself. He tasted a sharp burst of vaguely copper flavor, a trickle of wetness making his lips slide slickly over Hibari’s skin.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Hibari groaned, pushing back into Tsuna. “You -- how big are you?!”

“Uh,” said Tsuna, and Hibari twisted -- Tsuna caught a flash of his eyes, hazy and hot and intense -- and then he was flat on his back with all the wind knocked out of him, blinking up at the ceiling dazedly. He yelped a little when Hibari jerked at his slacks, ignoring the button and zipper and the fact that there was no way he was getting them off over Tsuna’s dick without _breaking something_.

Scrambling, Tsuna got his slacks open before that could happen. In only a second they were down about his knees and Hibari had his hand too tight around the length of him through his briefs, squeezing. Tsuna choked, body curling up a little, torn between arousal and pushing Hibari off because holy shit his hand was way too strong. “Hibar -- ahh ow! _Ow_ , damn it!”

“What did I tell you, you idiot,” Hibari said. But his voice sounded kind of faraway, a little thready, and he was still glaring down at Tsuna’s crotch like it had done him a personal insult. Tsuna whimpered, spine twisting without his say so.

“ _Kyouya_ , you’re not supposed to rip it off!”

“You’re big,” Hibari muttered, finally letting go so he could slide his fingers under the waistband of Tsuna’s briefs, the elastic stretching taut. “I didn’t expect you to be _this_ big.”

“Er.” Tsuna was blushing now, a little mortified and also horribly, dangerously turned on. He dug his heels into the floor and lifted, and for once Hibari took the cue and peeled Tsuna out of slacks and briefs, leaving him entirely naked from the waist down save his socks. “Sorry?” he asked. “Is it, uh. Too much?”

He couldn’t help but ask because it _had_ been, once. A girl in junior college had taken one look at him and said an emphatic _hell no_ , and then there were rumors all throughout Namimori for two months about how No Good Tsuna had a No Good Dick, but no one actually ever connected the dots about _why_.

“Ha,” said Hibari, and Tsuna realized he’d taken Tsuna’s concern as a _challenge_ right about the time Hibari muttered, “I’ll show you _too much_ , idiot,” and lowered his head to take Tsuna inside his mouth.

His wet, hot, _perfect_ mouth, teeth surprisingly polite, lips a tight band of pressure as Hibari tried to shove as much of Tsuna down as possible. He got around halfway before he choked, which meant that Hibari hadn’t sucked cock that much because Tsuna was big, but not _that_ big. 

“Easy,” Tsuna soothed, running his fingers through Hibari’s hair gently before he could think better of it.

Hibari pulled off, fast and slick and with a lewd little pop at the end. Tsuna thought he’d snarl, but he just tossed his head to dislodge Tsuna’s hand and then pressed his face into the palm when Tsuna started to pull back, nipping at his thumb. “Ah,” said Tsuna, startled, and then, “ _Ahh_ fuck,” when Hibari took Tsuna’s thumb into his mouth and suckled at it, eyes glittering through his lashes.

“You look good like this,” Tsuna murmured, too honest. 

But Hibari just breathed sharply through his nose and scraped his teeth at the base of Tsuna’s thumb and then he -- he _let_ Tsuna hook it over Hibari’s bottom teeth, prying his mouth open to see the pink flash of his tongue. “Pretty,” Tsuna gasped, feeling delirious, “You’re so -- _fuck_ , but you’re pretty,” and later he would blame it on being drunk and out of his mind with horniness that he was brave enough to say it, because it was a miracle that Tsuna called Hibari Kyouya pretty, even here, like this, and _didn’t get murdered_ for it.

Instead, Hibari just made a soft noise, flicking his tongue at Tsuna’s thumb, crouched over Tsuna’s thighs like some graceful, gorgeous predator. So Tsuna groaned and said it again, said: “God, Kyouya. I mean it. So fucking _pretty_ ,” while slipping his thumb out to press and rub against Hibari’s lower lip. 

Hibari made that little noise again, soft and barely there; strange and -- and _hungry_.

“Tell me,” murmured Tsuna, voice gone rough and low, throbbing with need, “is that all you can take into your pretty mouth, Kyouya?”

At that, a smile spread across his face. “I guess we’ll find out,” Hibari growled back, just a touch breathlessly, “exactly how much _you_ can take.”

* * *

He lost time, maybe. The world was a vortex of heat, slow and syrupy with alcohol in his veins and lust riding him hard and fast; Tsuna couldn’t stop watching Hibari’s head bobbing between his legs. The Cloud Guardian had managed to relax enough to swallow more of him down, but every time he tried to force his lips flush to the base he choked, body convulsing.

Tsuna would be lying if he said that it didn’t make heat pool molten in his belly, make his mouth dry from panting and his fingers clench hard against the floor, seeking something to hold on to and finding nothing. 

“Kyouya,” he gasped. “It’s okay -- you don’t -- you don’t have to take it all the way, okay? I don’t --”

Hibari glared up at Tsuna, jaw stretched painfully wide to fit Tsuna inside, his eyes watering just faintly at the strain of it. Tsuna groaned, arms trembling; he was holding himself up on his elbows to watch, trying to remind himself it was a bad idea to get up on his knees and take Hibari’s head in his hands and _push_ , try and teach him how to take him inch by inch until Tsuna could come down his throat, make him take all of it.

“It’s not a competition,” Tsuna half-laughed. “This isn’t -- you’re not in a fight with my _dick_ , Kyouya.” 

The little growl Hibari made at that felt good. Tsuna’s hips bucked reflexively, suddenly enough that Hibari choked again, had to pull off and cough, glaring. “How would you know,” Hibari muttered, sullen, and -- fuck.

 _Fuck_.

His voice was wrecked, a throaty, gravelly rumble that _Tsuna_ had caused. Moaning, Tsuna pushed up onto a palm so he could fit his other hand into Hibari’s hair and kiss him. Hibari sucked in a startled breath, lips spit-slick and a little swollen beneath Tsuna’s, stunned to stillness.

It was their first kiss.

“Sorry,” Tsuna managed. He drew back for a gasp of air before pressing forward again, slipping his tongue inside, tasting the slight salty bitterness, the saké and the heat of Hibari’s mouth. He wondered how long he could get away with this, kissing Hibari. It might have been going too far, too intimate; but Hibari just held steady beneath him, barely breathing, and then he gave a low noise and the surprised tension in his spine seemed to melt all at once. He returned the kiss.

And it was _good_. Hibari kissed differently than Tsuna had expected -- not violent and angry, but thorough, curious. Just as demandingly as he’d imagined, though: Hibari bit lightly at Tsuna’s tongue, making small noises, needy and possessive, that made Tsuna shiver and try his best to gather Hibari closer, pulling him up and into his lap so that they could kiss more easily.

Hibari grunted out, “The hell --” while attacking the buttons of Tsuna’s shirt, working on undressing him entirely, “-- are you apologizing -- _fuck_ , for -- you stupid --”

Whining, Tsuna shoved his free hand beneath the barely held together yukata so he could rub the heel of his palm against Hibari’s nipple, hoping he was sensitive there but too clumsy with desire to take his time, yet. His other hand tightened in Hibari’s hair even as Tsuna gentled the kisses, started leaving sweet little pecks at the corner of Hibari’s mouth, his chin, his cheek, the bridge of his nose.

“Tsunayoshi,” Hibari grit out, fingers clenching tight in Tsuna’s shirt.

He was flinching a little, like Hibari didn’t quite know how to react when he was touched as sweetly as this, when it felt good and slow and achingly tender. Tsuna felt him shake, a sudden, minute tremor that had him clutching aggressively at Tsuna’s wrinkled shirt where it was hanging open at his sides, using it to pull their bodies closer together. 

“You --” Hibari’s breath came in little hitching gasps, those sharp eyes wide and impossibly dark, staring at Tsuna. “Tsu -- Tsunayoshi, you --”

“What?” Tsuna murmured, nosing at Hibari’s jawline so he didn’t have to meet his Cloud Guardian’s gaze. There was too much there, too much in his own eyes, he thought, to share easily. He hummed, sucked gently at the hinge of Hibari’s jaw, and then asked, “Can’t you handle this? Or is it too much for you?”

It was a gamble; Tsuna hoped Hibari wouldn’t read too much into the frantic pace of his pulse. But maybe if Hibari needed the excuse -- _wanted_ the excuse -- it would work. 

To his surprise, it did. Hibari groaned and stretched, thighs spreading over Tsuna’s lap and leaning his head back so that Tsuna could slide his mouth down the long, pale column of his neck. He paused to mouth at Hibari’s adam’s apple, pressing gently with his teeth to make Hibari’s breath hitch sharply.

“You don’t -- _shit_ , need to coddle me. I --”

“I’m not,” Tsuna protested, fitting his hands against Hibari’s hips and tipping him over, lowering them down so that Tsuna was left leaning over Hibari, tracing patterns on his chest with his tongue. He pressed aside the loose collar of the yukata with his chin and licked at a nipple, slow and firm. 

Hibari twitched. “You _are_. I’m not -- I’m not delicate, Sawada Tsunayoshi. I can take whatever you dish out -- I can --”

“I know you can.” His words were soft, muffled against skin; he didn’t want to leave Hibari’s nipple, pebbling up slowly, shining with spit. He said, “You’re Hibari Kyouya and you don’t need anyone or anything. You’re the strongest man I _know_ , all right. You’re amazing.”

“ _Hnn_.”

Tsuna couldn’t resist any longer; not with Hibari’s hard, powerful body shaking and jerking with pleasure beneath his, hands still clenching violently in Tsuna’s shirt, pulling him in. He gave a sharp bite to Hibari’s nipple, shivering when Hibari cried out, startled and hungry. “But you do _want_ me,” Tsuna breathed out, “enough that this doesn’t have to be just -- just violence and release. It can be --”

“ _Don’t ruin it_ ,” Hibari seethed, twisting beneath him. But not enough to get away or dislodge Tsuna. No, instead his strong, muscled thighs pressed tight against Tsuna’s hips, holding him still. An arm wrapped around the back of Tsuna’s neck, forcing Tsuna’s mouth back in place. With a moan, Tsuna latched onto that tender, puffed up nipple, sucking and licking and nibbling with his teeth until Hibari let him go.

* * *

For a long time it was just that: Tsuna over Hibari, grinding down leisurely, hands and mouths moving aimlessly over skin. The room they were in was big, dimly lit; the only noises were the ones the two of them made, sweat-slick and lewd, gasping. Hibari’s fundoshi had been discarded somewhere in the midst of it all, the tie of his yukata undone.

The dark fabric was spread out beneath him, Hibari’s arms still in the sleeves. It felt good, so fucking amazing, Tsuna’s dizzied brain floating along on arousal and wonder, content to just slide his dick over and over again against Hibari’s, a slow, filthy drag.

“You’re taking too long,” Hibari said, tight through clenched teeth. He was digging his heels into the floor, shifting steadily along with the rhythm Tsuna had set. But he was starting to get impatient; Tsuna could feel it in the jump of his thigh muscles, the way the flush of alcohol and lust that had spread down from cheeks to sternum was only getting more brilliant, stark on his pale, sweaty skin.

“Haa,” said Tsuna, concentrating. “Not my -- not my fault, you know. ‘M drunk, and it -- it always takes me a long time to get off.”

“Big dick like yours,” Hibari gritted out, bucking suddenly, just a little aborted hitch of his hips before he got his body back under control, “you’d think it’d be -- _ah_ \-- allover sensitive. Easy to make you come, easy to -- to make you beg for it.”

That made Tsuna laugh. “You want me to beg?” he asked, voice breathy. “Oh, _Kyouya_. I’d beg, if you wanted. If you could make me. I bet you could make me.”

Hibari gulped -- mouth slack, eyes wide; something feral and desperate shining through -- and his dick was jumping at just the thought, apparently, bumping alongside Tsuna’s. Tsuna groaned as Hibari’s hands tightened around his flexed biceps, easily hard enough to bruise. “Oh. _Oh_ , you want that, don’t you? Fuck, so do I. God, how would you do it, Kyouya? Bend me over and put your cock in me until I’m gasping? Or -- or would you -- _fuck_ , fuckfuck -- would you _ride me_ , ride me until I’m _crying_ it feels so -- so good.”

“You’re babbling,” Hibari snarled, fierce and clawing at him. Tsuna kept the pace slow, methodical, ignoring the way that Hibari was grinding up into him, now, trying to move things along. “You’re fucking _babbling_ , Tsunayoshi. I -- fuck.”

Very nearly sly, Tsuna asked, “Do you like it?”

Hibari just groaned, banging his head back against the floor, eyes clenched tight. He looked -- well, for one, he looked utterly _gorgeous_. Flushed and messy, utterly sloppy with desire. But he also looked conflicted, raw and hunted, like he hated how much he wanted this, but didn’t know how to _stop_.

And it -- it made Tsuna a little _angry_ , actually. 

He threw his weight to the side, rolling them. Hibari hissed as it jarred him, his knees banging into the ground, having to slap a hand out to keep from headbutting Tsuna right in the nose. Tsuna tipped his chin up, glaring. “C’mon, then,” he panted, going boneless against the floor. “Show me how much you like it.”

“I don’t --”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” Tsuna said, aiming for casual; probably failing. “I never thought I’d get this. I’ve probably fucked everything up between us. I’m drunk, you’re drunk -- this was so fucking _stupid_. But I want it, Hibari-san.” His voice cracked but he kept going, went ahead and said it, said all of it, because at this point what was there left to lose? “I want _you_. I always have, I always fucking do! I want --”

Hibari kissed him. 

Kissed him _hard_. Like a punishment, sharp and biting, forceful; and like a -- like a _claim_ , deep, consuming, desperate. It felt almost like an entreaty with his fingers curling into Tsuna’s hair, thumbs sliding soft beneath his closed eyes, and it was all too much and not enough and Tsuna just -- he _wanted_. 

“Tsunayoshi,” Hibari murmured, pulling back just enough that Tsuna’s name was a breath across his damped lips. 

“Please,” Tsuna sighed. “ _Please_ , Hibari-san, I want you to like this.”

His reward for the admittance was a nearly vicious bite to the meat of his shoulder. Tsuna yelled a little before he bit it off by grinding his teeth, arching his neck so that Hibari had better access. Movements jerky, annoyed, Hibari shifted them around until he was seated across Tsuna’s hips, cock held loosely in one hand with Tsuna’s tucked beneath him. 

“Fuck me like this,” Hibari said, glaring down at him. “I’m going to come all over you.”

Tsuna wet his lips, fighting off a groan; Hibari was hot to the touch, and though it wasn’t anything near the level of sensation being fully enclosed in his ass would be, or even fucking his closed thighs or his hand, the weight of his body pressing down on Tsuna was good. 

Tsuna said, “Is -- Is that what you _want_?”

“I want,” Hibari bit out with a filthy grind of his hips, “for you to stop calling me _Hibari-san_ when we’re _fucking_.”

“Okay. Okay, sure,” gasped Tsuna, and then he was planting his feet and Hibari was arching back onto one palm, thighs trembling, the yukata dangling off his one bent elbow. Tsuna watched his hand move, rolling his palm up over the head and then back down. Tsuna stared, lust like fire burning through him to see Hibari like this, open and wanting, skin slick with sweat and flushed with pleasure. A bead of precum glistened for a second and then was gone beneath the near-frantic motion of Hibari’s hand. 

_God_ , Tsuna wanted to taste him. Wondered half-deliriously if Hibari was going to come hard enough that some of it might splatter against Tsuna’s mouth, catch on his tongue.

He just wanted -- everything, anything, all of it -- again and again and again.

“I’ve thought about this,” Hibari admitted, so quiet Tsuna nearly lost it in the rush of blood in his ears as he moved, sliding his dick back and forth against Hibari, cockhead bumping up against his balls before sliding past and then back in a way that had Hibari twisting, very nearly squirming at the onslaught of sensation.

Tsuna really wanted to ask _about what_ but he was scared to ruin it for real; instead, he bit his tongue and focused on his task, worked to keep his pace slow and steady even as Hibari’s hand started to speed up, precome sliding slickly from his slit. 

Luckily, Hibari kept right on going, sounding like he was just -- just saying it aloud as an afterthought. Not like a confession, though it was one; almost like a concession, maybe, a little piece of ground he was willing to give up, to share with Tsuna.

He said between panting breaths, “I tried not to. I didn’t -- didn’t _want_ to. But I think about it, sometimes. About, ahh, hn! -- about, about _you_. When I’m bored, or -- or when I’m tired. When I’m --” 

“ _Kyouya_ ,” Tsuna whined, eyes squeezing shut. 

“I want this,” Hibari hissed out. “You, and -- and me, like this. I -- I _have_ wanted. I _want_ \--” and then he gave a choked, startled groan, because he’d pressed down onto Tsuna’s dick just as he was starting up a new thrust, and --

The head of Tsuna’s erection caught against the pucker of Hibari’s hole, just for a second. They both froze, shaken and -- and _hungry_. Tsuna wanted to grab Hibari by the hips and hold him there, was desperate for lube and permission to press into him and make Hibari open up around him, yielding and surrendering to the intrusion until Tsuna was buried as far into Hibari’s body as it was possible to _go_.

But he didn’t -- couldn’t -- 

“Fuck,” he whimpered, twisting his hips so his dick jumped free, slid forward against Hibari’s perineum; Hibari lifted up higher on his knees and Tsuna shot his hand forward to grasp himself, pumping shallowly as he rubbed the head of his dick back and forth between Hibari’s hole and that little stretch of smooth, vulnerable skin. 

“ _Don’t stop_ ,” Hibari demanded, squeezing his eyes shut. 

Tsuna nodded, nonsensical; he couldn’t catch his breath. His blood felt like fire and destruction coursing through him, like he was going to shake apart from the inside out, a kind of desolation he would never recover from, not with Hibari’s words ringing through his head and heart. Whining faintly, Tsuna bucked his hips up just a little, pushing at Hibari’s clenched hole, enough that Hibari grit his teeth and started breathing raggedly through his nose, motions going jerky, frantic. 

“Oh. Oh, _please_ ,” Tsuna slurred out, the pleasure washing through him now like an ocean tide, relentless and impossible to turn away. “Yes, yes, _please_ , I -- Let me. _Let me_ , Kyouya, just like that --” 

Greedy, he was so _greedy_ , but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Tsuna pushed up even harder, firm and daring against Hibari’s rim, precome slicking his way as he circled the too-tight hole and managed, somehow, to press his thumb back against Hibari’s perineum. Hibari made a choked noise and came, face going still and tight and ferocious, teeth biting into his lower lip as he rode it out. Tsuna felt his come hit his skin, painting his chest. 

Hoarsely, he said, “ _Kyouya_ ,” and shifted to rub his dick in a deliberate grind against Hibari’s perineum, now, massaging his prostate gently through the last throes of his orgasm. 

Beautiful, absolutely -- 

“Gorgeous,” Tsuna managed, stroking himself quickly, desperately. “You -- Kyouya, God, I can’t even -- so _hot_ , you --”

“Shut up,” Kyouya muttered, still panting, still braced against the floor and still spread out across Tsuna’s lap. His thighs were quivering, which was maybe even more amazing than the way his nipples were a deep pink and spit-shiny, still, or even how his hair was sticking to his forehead with sweat, all rucked up from Tsuna’s hands twisting the strands together, because --

Hibari _never_ got tired, but Tsuna had just -- just _fucked_ him into a trembling mess.

“Make me,” Tsuna gasped, grinning, light-headed with the orgasm building in his gut, tingling beneath his skin, drawing up his balls tight to his body and throbbing through his dick.

Lazily, Hibari bent down over him until his lips just barely brushed Tsuna’s cheek. “Are you going to come for me, Tsunayoshi?”

“Y-yes!”

“Mm,” Hibari slid his mouth down to nip at the lobe of Tsuna’s ear; then he nosed along Tsuna’s hairline, breathing still just the slightest bit unsteady, voice still a little rough and raw as he said, “Good. I want to see it.”

“Fuck,” Tsuna hissed, and -- and -- _fuck_.

Tsuna squeezed his eyes shut tight, body convulsing as everything went blurred and fantastic, too-sharp and fire-roaring and utterly perfect. He felt Hibari’s lips graze his temple, his nose, his cheek -- Tsuna shook and shook and _shook_ , feeling like he’d never come back down to reality.

“There,” Hibari murmured, and then they were -- they were _kissing_ again, and it wasn’t the lead up to anything. It wasn’t frantic and desperate and half a dare. It was lazy and slow, a little too sharp to be entirely sweet, but close. It was -- 

A kiss.

Just a kiss, warm and golden with afterglow. 

Tsuna slid his hands up from where he’d been gripping Hibari’s hips too tightly, wrapped them around his back and held on, as tightly as he could while Hibari laid his weight atop him, trading lazy, indulgent kisses all the while.


End file.
